


Queen Bitch

by SweetDeceiver



Category: David Bowie - Fandom, Duran Duran
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 11:31:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1264870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetDeceiver/pseuds/SweetDeceiver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon has delusions of grandeur when Duran are supporting Bowie during the Glass Spiders tour in 1987.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Queen Bitch

**Author's Note:**

> Written for stellarmeadow for dd_boys holiday exchange.

It suddenly struck Simon as he finished exchanging pleasantries with Bowie in the hallway before the show: David Bowie fancied him.

It explained so much. David was always civil and charming to everyone, but always with that distant air, so that you never felt really close to him. He was attentive to everyone in the band, but while he replied with cautious smiles to Nick's attempts to get close to him, was cynically amused by John's chaotic self destruction, and talked shop a lot with Roger, in the end he stayed perpetually aloof from them all.

It was Simon he asked for his opinion and Simon he shared little observations with. Simon, open-mouthed with admiration and almost falling over himself with eagerness to please, was rewarded with something approaching confidence by Bowie. You couldn't really name it affection, but the slight glimmer of amusement in his eyes as David talked to him, and the way he dropped the cordial attitude he had with anyone else meant a lot to Simon, now that he stopped to consider.

And there was something else in his eyes as David looked at him, too: an assessing look, a consideration that he kept well hidden. But if there was something Simon knew about, it was lust, and that was what he saw lurking in those ice-blue eyes, deep below their cold surface.

Now that he had finally discovered this, he felt a compelling need to discuss this with someone. Someone who knew a lot about Bowie, yet wasn't Bowie himself.

Hhmm.

Nick! Of course. He was always correcting what anyone said about Bowie, and he was the one who set himself up as the expert. Surely he must have noticed. Simon set off in pursuit.

"Nick!" he said, when he found him, and pulled him into a spare dressing room. "I have to talk to you about something."

Nick raised an eyebrow and let Simon push him into the room and close the door. He wondered a little about Simon's visible excitement but since he got this way about certain things, he tried not to speculate. "Yes?" he said. "What happened to you?"

"I think." Simon started to say. He shook his head. "No. You're going to think I'm insane. But I think. Alright. I think that Bowie fancies me." Nick just stared at him, his mouth quirking into a wry little smile.

"You say that about everyone." he said.

"But it's true!" Simon said, indignant. "Loads of people do fancy me. In case you hadn't noticed." Nick rolled his eyes.

"Okay well, good luck with that." he said, and turned to leave. Simon stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"No, seriously. Nick, I'm being serious here."

"So am I. You say that about everyone, and anyway, I just don't think Bowie would go for you."

"Yeah, well, frankly, neither did I. But there you have it." Simon said. He looked at Nick closely. He had that stubborn look around his mouth that meant he was angry about something. Angry about what? Could he be... jealous? And of whom? Simon felt a stronger spark of interest, and had a sudden idea. "Well, okay, what if I show you?"

"Show me? What, shall I lurk in the background while you try to get off with him?" Nick narrowed his eyes, an expression of annoyance that absolutely delighted Simon.

"Yeah!" Simon was glad to find Nick so understanding of the matter. Nick looked less pleased, however. Maybe he'd gone too far, because he could tell by Nick's face he was about to refuse. So he decided to pull out the big guns. "And then if I muck it up you can help me." Nick gave him a little look, his eyes widening slightly in the way that meant he was genuinely interested. Definitely jealous. Nick was so obvious sometimes.

"Alright." he said. "Let me know." He stalked out the room, and Simon mentally punched the air, before dancing out after him.

 

\------------

That evening, Nick was stationed in a strategic position, and Simon spent extra time dressing up. Bowie approached him, a fact he couldn't help but point out to Nick, who pressed his lips together(not good), and Simon was determined not to let him go for the rest of the night.

 

"I thought Absolute Beginners was wonderful, actually. Not as good as Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence, or The Elephant Man, but still." Simon said, waving his glass around. Nick was leaning in a bit to get the rest of the conversation. "What method do you use?"

Then Nick zoned out of what Bowie was saying because he was busy looking at body language. Bowie was fidgeting, sometimes really focusing on Simon and sometimes looking around, restlessly. He kept laughing, in a big, open mouthed way, and touching his hair. It would seem that Simon was right after all. Nick frowned a little and pursed his lips as he turned away again. He couldn't admit to himself that he would give anything to have him even interested in anything he had to say, so he contented himself with thinking about how annoying Simon was when he tried to be charming.

"Well, maybe you should get back into it." Bowie was saying. "It's a good business."

"Oh yeah well, I like music too much." Simon said. "Anyway, what would the others do without me?" Nick gave him a vicious side look, and Simon noticed, because he smiled in reaction.

"Oh of course, you have a band to think of." David said. "I never really had that trouble." Simon laughed fakely, and they blathered on like this for ages. Nick was going nearly cross eyed from how incredibly stupid their conversation was. Why didn't Simon ask him about something important? And why was Bowie so interested? Didn't he know he was an ARTIST??

David turned to get another drink and Simon leaned over to Nick. "What else does he like except himself, men acting really blokey, and acting?" he hissed.

"I don't know, have you tried 50s music and fashion?" Nick said. He'd meant it as a scathing comment on their vapid conversation, but this failed. Simon put a hand on his shoulder as thanks and turned to David again.

"So who do you think came first, Little Richard or Esquerita?" Simon said, and Nick fumed on in silence.

 

\-------------

Simon had rarely felt so uncomfortable in his life as he had during that conversation. This whole getting David to hit on him scheme was more difficult than anticipated. While David wasn't very hard to charm because he had obviously decided that he liked Simon, he was so distant that Simon found it hard to determine where he stood or what his intentions were, and kept trying to draw him out, with little success.

David, meanwhile, seemed to be wondering what he was doing and waiting for him to lay off so he could regain control of the situation.

And though it had initially seemed a hilarious and interesting idea to involve Nick, it really wasn't helping. Nick kept shooting Simon poisonous little looks, and Simon could tell by his facial expression that he was angry. It was probably because he wasn't asking where Bowie got his ideas for Low or something completely wrongheaded and dorky like that. It was really difficult when Nick got into But I'm The Real Fan mode, though his jealousy was definitely amusing, and, truth be told, kind of exciting. Simon had to continually suppress the urge to goad him. If this hadn't been such an important matter, he would have teased him more, but he couldn't get too distracted by Nick now.

David noticed the tension between the two band mates at least once, because he smiled a toothy smile when Nick narrowed his eyes at them. Simon decided to pretend he hadn't seen it. "Maybe we should go into the hall." he said. "It's er, kind of noisy in here." David raised an eyebrow and took a drag on his cigarette. He cast an eye over the crowd in the room. Nick had turned away and was talking animatedly to someone.

"Yeah, maybe we should." he said. He followed David, a trifle nervously, into the empty hall. There was something going on, he could tell. His optimistic nature lit up again, though, as David took his arm and leant his face close to his.

"I didn't want to tell you in there, but that Nick fella didn't seem to like us talking for so long." David said.

"Oh yeah, well." Simon said, floundering. "Er, he doesn't like these trousers." David gave him a sharp look, his face giving nothing away.

"Really?" he said. "I think they look really great on you." Simon looked at him, wondering whether he was being made fun of or being hit on, and David grinned at him, his pointy, lopsided teeth making him look rather shark-like. "Come on, I have a bottle of champagne in my dressing room." he said, steering them both into it. Simon followed him willingly, a little giddy with expectations.

Simon didn't really like champagne, truth be told, but between the champagne and the pint he'd had earlier, he was too tipsy to care. David, meanwhile, seemed either unaffected, or he took more care to hide it. Then again, after fifteen years of hardcore cocaine addiction, maybe low strength liquor kind of lost its power.

David didn't seem as distant and slightly terrifying anymore now that he was seeing him through a faint alcoholic haze. Simon, unfazed now by superstardom status, put his arm round him like he was chatting up a girl. David acted like he didn't notice, though. Simon was about to say something about whether cocaine use makes you immune to alcohol, when David suddenly put his hand on his neck and pulled him down, into a kiss.

The kiss was strange, and David was domineering about it, his hands clasped bony and sharp on Simon's wide shoulders. It was intense, and Simon forgot his initial playful enthusiasm as his desire became stronger. He noticed David's eyes were open, and he looking at him with their uneven, light blue gaze. There was something expected of him, and so he broke the kiss and moved his lips to David's neck, his Adam's apple, the sharp line of his collarbone. David's hands ran through his hair, roughly.

He guessed he knew where this was going, but, as it turned out, he was wrong, because he was nearing the waistband of David's trousers and just about slavering at the thought of opening them when David pushed him away. He felt strangely hurt.

"Look, we don't have a lot of time so get on with it." David said, and backed away from him, challenging. Simon spent a stupid second pondering the meaning of this, before he decided to forget about it, and lunged forward, full of a desire to meet David's expectations. Before he knew it, they were squashed up against the far wall, David's hand in his crotch and him trying to somehow get rid of David's shirt. But it was really hard to do anything that directly needing good coordination like undoing buttons when your teen idol was giving you a hand job.

"Oh bloody HELL," he said, shutting his eyes hard and his breathing hitching.

"Ssshh." David said, and continued to stroke him hard, a slightly malicious glint in his eyes. Simon huffed and, with a big push of his hips, pinned David against the wall. David let out an undignified yelp. Simon smiled in satisfaction. David, however, decided to one up him and instead wiggled out from under him, so he had the space to turn. Simon settled in against him, his arms around his waist. David's body was rather small compared to his, which was odd yet pleasing, and it felt light and full of angles.

He breathed heavily into David's hair as he fiddled with his trousers, almost unable to believe this was really happening and at the same time completely thrilled. He held on tight to David's hips as he entered him, and was nervous at first, scared somehow of doing something wrong. He watched David's face intently but his eyes were screwed shut and his whole body was tense, as if he was preparing himself. Well, alright then.

It was quick, and hard, and messy, and he had to stop several times to ask if David was REALLY alright, which seemed to annoy him as he would only respond with a growl. God, it felt good though, his wiry body so compact under his own and able to take anything.

He ran his hands admiringly over David's pale back, savouring every moment of it, short and rough as it was. David was mostly silent, only gasps and silent, sudden jerks of his body indicating that he was edging closer to orgasm. Simon rested his head on his shoulder, and reached down to join David's hand to jerk him off. It felt amazing to be so together, he thought vaguely. He was so busy focusing on David that when he came it was completely out of left field, and hit him so hard he had trouble remembering anything that happened for a while afterwards.

He had to join David, who was still leaning against the wall for support, and felt completely wrung out. They stayed there in silence for a while, until David cast a glance at his watch, and walked over to the mirror to straighten himself out. Simon watched him, limp yet satisfied with himself, as David redid his hair and re-arranged his clothes. Soon he looked as neat and collected as always.

Simon felt a twinge of admiration and affection as he looked at David's pretty face, reflected in the mirror. All that had been his, for a moment.

Finally, David turned and gave him a last kiss. "Cheers." he said, and started to walk away. He looked around as though he expected to see someone, but didn't.


End file.
